


A Reward For Not Being Good

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: Fanart, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 12:36:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11806128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: When going undercover for a bit of fun turns up the most delicious of secrets, one absolutely must stay calm.





	A Reward For Not Being Good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thetoxicstrawberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetoxicstrawberry/gifts).



> Now with awesome art from thetoxicstrawberry!

The amount of people crowding the square that day was a happy reminder of how prosperous the still relatively new village had already become. Shops and stalls proudly displayed their wares, calling out prices in an attempt to entice passersby in for a bit of midday shopping. While it was a happy thing to see their childhood dream become such a beautiful reality, the busy marketplace was also a bit of a hindrance.

Madara scowled as he looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of Kakashi. He and the Senju brothers had been looking for the man for a short while now and he was becoming frustrated. He wasn’t exactly the most patient man and this tended to clash fairly often with Kakashi’s poor time keeping skills. From his left there came a slightly exasperated sigh.

“Tobiiiiii, is he here yet?” Hashirama whined while bouncing on the balls of his feet, trying to get a better view above the heads of those around them. Dignity, it seemed, was not on the Hokage’s mind at the moment.

Tobirama directed a glare at his little brother as he snapped, “How many times must I ask you _not_ to call me by that ridiculous name?” Hashirama easily ignored his ire in favor of giving him a dose of puppy eyes. The sensor rolled his own and growled, “Yes. I can feel his chakra. He’s on the opposite side of the square.”

Hashirama let out a whoop most unbecoming of his station and set off in the indicated direction. Relieved, the other two followed quickly behind. The crowd was thick and moving through so many people took more time than would have been necessary if Kakashi didn’t make it so difficult to find him on the days he didn’t have a mission. At last they stepped around a small group of shoppers to see the spot where their friend should have been.

Instead of Kakashi there was only a civilian in a trench coat snapping pictures of the freshly carved effigy of the Shodaime’s face up on the mountain. While the Hokage and his oldest friend looked side to side for their intended target, Tobirama blinked at the stranger.

“What on earth…?”

At the sound of his voice the man with the camera looked up. His golden eyes were highlighted by thick streaks of purple makeup and they widened as he beamed upon catching sight of who stood near him.

“Oh! The Hokage himself! Hokage-sama, might I take a picture of the three strongest shinobi is all of Fire Country?”

Hashirama’s face lit up in response, immediately distracted. Before either of his companions could protest the brunet had thrown an arm around both of their shoulders and pulled them in tight. Tobirama could be heard protesting but the words were cut off as his brother ordered him to shut up and smile for the camera. Madara grumbled on the other side and got his own scolding as well.

Cameras were a rather new invention and having a photograph offered to them struck Hashirama as a most precious gift. It would be a wonderful thing to have in his home, an image of himself and his most precious people. Well, two of his most precious people. It would have been nice if his adoptive brother had arrived on time to be in the photograph as well.

“Excellent!” their mysterious stranger exclaimed. “This will turn out very nicely, Hokage-sama!”

“How lovely!” Hashirama darted over to him to watch the polaroid spit out of the camera. The photographer shook it to help the colors develop, then generously handed it over for inspection. Hashirama cooed and babbled about how lovely it was and how amazing the technology must be to create such wonders.

“Brother,” Tobirama finally broke in. “You do realize-”

“Ah! Is Senju-sama not satisfied? He could have a picture of his own, if he likes!” The stranger cut straight across Tobirama’s words, turning his eyes up in a strangely familiar smile. “Or is it that Senju-sama is uncomfortable? I have no ill intent, I can promise you.”

The two of them held each other’s gazes wordlessly for a short moment, Tobirama with a confused expression and the photographer looking almost smug with how wide his smile was. Finally the Senju shook his head with a bemused sigh.

“I do not need a photograph,” he grumbled, sounding as if he’d just lost some sort of argument. “I know very well what I look like.”

“And I have one of you right here!” Hashirama said. Then he drooped. “Where’s Kakashi? You said he was over here; it would be nice to have a photograph of him too!”

“A friend of yours?” the photographer asked with a slight innocent tilt to his head. Tobirama narrowed his eyes.

“Hmph.”

“Tobiiii!”

“Stop _calling_ me that! Kakashi…appears to have left.”

To the side of all the excitement, Madara watched the way Tobirama sighed in defeat while the photographer smiled just a little too kindly. Something was _off_ but he couldn’t for the life of him think of what it was. What he was seeing convinced him that Tobirama knew this stranger somehow and that something was very likely going on between them but Madara had no clue what it could be or what it might have to do with Kakashi.

He said nothing when Hashirama invited the stranger to eat with them since the one they were waiting on had apparently decided to go off on his own for whatever reason. Kakashi was flighty like that sometimes. Madara followed along behind the photographer and the two Senju brothers as they all headed across the square and stepped in to one of the cafés that had been popping up around the village recently.

The four of them settled around a small wooden table and Hashirama filled the air with chatter as a young lad brought them over a tray of tea. Madara kept his eyes on the newcomer, who introduced himself as Sukea, and noticed Tobirama doing the same. The other man was staring at this Sukea with a continually bemused expression like he was watching something strange unfurl before him and wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. It made Madara _suspicious_. As much as he hated to admit it, Tobirama was rather reliable like that – if he thought something was off, it usually was.

“You’ll forgive me I hope, Uchiha-sama, but if you continue to stare at me so I may start to question your intentions.”

Madara jerked as the photographer looked over and winked at him in a rather salacious manner. It was all too obvious what intentions he thought were being directed at him and he could not have been farther off base. Madara sneered at him.

“I am not _flirting_ with you,” he growled. Sukea pouted.

“A pity.” The pout dropped away to be replaced by a mischievous expression. “I wouldn’t have minded if you were.”

Tobirama gave off muted choking noises as he turned away and pretended to heave. Madara spared a glare for him as well.

“Quiet, Senju. At the very least this man has good taste.” His gaze returned to Sukea. “Your interest is misplaced, however. I am, as they say, not available.”

“But you’re not dating anyone, Madara,” Hashirama pointed out. Madara drew himself up with as much dignity as possible.

“That does not necessarily mean that I am available for every stray we pick up off the street to flirt with. I have standards.”

“Hmm. Could it be that you already have someone in mind, Uchiha-sama?” Seated beside him at their small table, Sukea was in the perfect spot to lean over until he was nearly pressed up against Madara’s side. “There’s nothing wrong with taking a chance on someone new. Is there something I can do to convince you?”

Madara leaned away, feeling slightly discomfited. “I – no. No thank you.”

“Oh, but why not?” Hashirama whined across the table from him. “You’re always so determined to be alone, Madara! Is Sukea right? Do you”–he paused to gasp–“do you have a _crush_ on someone?” Madara rolled his eyes skyward.

“If I did would it be any of your business?”

“We’re practically brothers!”

“Exactly! Butt out!”

He was so focused on Hashirama that he failed to notice Sukea leaning in to his space again. He had to admit, the man was distractingly attractive. Even the single blemish of the mole near his chin was more adorable than anything else. The only thing Madara thought he could do without was the purple makeup – he’d never been a fan of makeup on either gender. The man beside him had tilted up one side of his mouth in a devastating smirk that, were Madara inclined to accept what he was offering, would have sent him straight to his knees with wanting. Unfortunately for Sukea, Madara was not so inclined.

“If you don’t have someone in mind then what’s the problem?” His hand landed on Madara’s knee, causing the Uchiha to startle as a brash thumb rubbed a circle against the seam his pants. “I would love to…get to know you better.” The tone in his voice somehow made it obvious that he meant that in a carnal manner.

“Eh?” For all that Madara was aware that he was an attractive man, he was not used to being flirted with so brazenly. No matter how much bravado he put up in front of others the fact remained that Madara was very unused to this kind of attention. He wasn’t sure what to do when faced with it.

“Or perhaps Uchiha-sama simply isn’t looking for a relationship? That’s alright. I’m open to _other options_.” His eyes dragged slowly down Madara’s form and the clan leader noticed a strange flatness to them, that there was no light behind their golden color. For some reason they seemed horribly out of place and he shuddered.

“I said no,” he repeated firmly. “You would do well to remove yourself from my personal space – else I will happily remove your head.”

“Uchiha-sama is such a tease,” Sukea said, returning himself to his own seat with a grin. His fingers dragged away from Madara’s thigh with a lingering sort of reluctance. “And a party pooper if I’ve ever seen one.”

Madara bristled. He was _not_ a party pooper just because he wasn’t interested in rolling between the sheets with every stranger who offered to! Having standards and morals did not make him boring, it made him responsible! He harrumphed and crossed his arms, greatly offended. Hashirama gave him a warning look which he easily ignored.

“I am not some common harlot that will accept every suitor who falls at my feet,” he growled.

“Oh I’d fall to my knees for you in a _heartbeat_ if that’s what you’re looking for, Uchiha-sama.” Sukea waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Madara turned red even as Tobirama began making retching noises again.

“Is it absolutely necessary for you to do this while I’m here?” The white haired man demanded. Madara narrowed his eyes.

“I become more and more convinced that you two know each other,” he said.

Sukea gave him an innocent look and Tobirama gave him a flat one. Neither one of their expressions gave anything away but it was the tense setting of Tobirama’s shoulders in contrast to the practically languid set of Sukea’s that caught his eye. Something really was going on here and this strange man was obviously making fun of him somehow.

“The only one I want to know is you, Uchiha-sama.” It was almost impressive how he managed to make a simple grin seem so filthy. Madara growled.

“Will you stop that!” he demanded.

“Oh but you said that there was no one in your life! Can you blame me for hoping to help you…fill that hole?”

“I said stop!” Madara balled his hands in to fists. “Your innuendoes are _not_ appreciated!”

“No? That’s odd. I hear you appreciate a good innuendo.” Sukea winked at him slowly and the sight of it grated on the last nerve holding Madara’s temper in check.

“Not from you! You’re not him and you never will be so I suggest you quit trying! I have reached the end of my patience! One more unwanted comment from you and so kami help me…” He meant to leave the threat open, to make it more ominous by leaving Sukea’s imagination to come up with the most terrible things that he could.

Instead he got three identical expressions looking back at him from each of his companions’ faces. It was a tad eerie, the way they had all raised the same eyebrow. Hashirama was the first to let that expression slide away but as soon as it was gone Madara wished for it back as childish glee rushed in to replace it. He barely resisted groaning; he knew that expression.

“ _Him_?” Hashirama crowed. “There’s a ‘him’! Why Madara, I thought you said that you didn’t have a crush on anyone!” Madara wrinkled his nose.

“I believe I said it wasn’t any of your business!”

“Tell me!”

“I will not!”

“Come on Madara, tell me!” Hashirama leaned forward and stage whispered, “Is he hot?”

Madara recoiled, reacting without thinking his words through. “Don’t be disgusting! That is your _brother_!”

He only realized what he had said when everyone else at the table recoiled as well. Hashirama looked flabbergasted, Sukea looked as if he’d been slapped in the face, and Tobirama looked downright horrified. All the blood drained away from the younger Senju’s face while the older immediately started to flail.

“You have a crush on Tobirama!?” Hashirama exclaimed. Madara gaped.

“What!? No! _Kakashi_!”

“Oh thank kami!” Tobirama dropped his head in to his hands.

“Fuck you,” Madara growled. “I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.”

Across from him, Hashirama clutched his hands to his chest before switching and waving them about in excitable patterns, gushing about how happy he was for Madara and how incredible it would be to have his best friend get together with his adopted brother. The Uchiha sank down in to his chair, mortified that he had let his secret slip like that.

He’d developed an interest in Kakashi mere months after the one-eyed idiot had dropped out of the future and in to their lives a couple years ago. He was interesting – and for more reasons that just the fact that he was an actual bona fide time traveler. The laziness of his expression quite cleverly hid the energetic mischief that sparkled in his eyes, the wicked intelligence hiding inside that brilliant mind of his. He was also somehow the most gorgeous person Madara had ever laid eyes on even with 90% of his body covered at all times.

Not that Kakashi had ever shown any signs of sharing his interest – that he had noticed. Madara would be the first to admit that he wasn’t the most graceful at social interactions. As he’d been thinking earlier, he had no idea how to flirt and even less idea how to react to someone else’s flirtations. His usual response was to get flustered and then snappish. By now he was certain that Kakashi thought him awkward at best, an uncultured boor at worst.

It took a while to calm Hashirama down and extract promises from his best friend _not_ to run straight to Kakashi with the news of his embarrassing crush. He threatened Tobirama into silence as well, discomfited by the smug look he received from the younger man and the vaguely worrying way he phrased his acquiescence. Almost as if he were implying that Kakashi already knew. Madara comforted himself with the surety that there wasn’t any way Kakashi _could_ already know. Surely if he did then he would use that knowledge to tease, to poke fun. The man he was enamored with also happened to have quite a large streak of juvenility.

Only when he had managed to rein in both of the Senju brothers did Madara realize that Sukea had been completely silent the entire time. His reaction had not been vocal at all. In fact, he was still sitting quietly by the time Madara thought to look at him, sipping his tea with a serene expression. When he noticed that attention had turned back to himself he offered a calm smile.

“Your point has been taken, Uchiha-sama. If your heart already belongs to this _Kakashi_ then I suppose the only polite thing to do would be to bow out gracefully.” He set his drink on the table and rose, bowing to the three of them. “Hokage-sama, it was an absolute honor to be in your august presence.”

Sukea turned and walked away without another word, not bothering to wait for Hashirama’s disappointed protests or Tobirama’s rolling eyes. Madara watched him go and tried not to dwell on the feeling that there was still something he was missing, some mystery he hadn’t solved. He would think it strange how the man had simply popped up except for the fact that Hashirama took in strays all the time. He friend had a bad habit of trying to make friends with the whole world and this was just another classic example of that.

The incident was not terribly important, however, and Madara was able to put Sukea out of his mind for the rest of the day. He focused instead on avoiding any attempts by Hashirama to tease him about his newly revealed feelings for the adoptive Senju that was supposed to meet them that day. After a light snack at the café Tobirama slipped off to be on his own while Madara and Hashirama took a walk around the village, trying to see if they could locate their wayward friend. When Kakashi was not to be found at any of his usual haunts they shrugged and gave up. He would turn up eventually, when he was good and ready. It wasn’t all that uncommon for him to seek some time alone.

Madara returned home shortly after dinner, having eaten with his friend and the man’s terrifying wife. Mito never smiled at him. She never frowned either and that was almost as disconcerting. Instead she looked at him with an oddly blank countenance that made him worry about what was concealed behind it.

The moment he entered his small house in the center of the Uchiha district, however, Madara was on alert. There was an envelope on the small table that he usually left his house key on – an envelope that had not been there when he left this morning. No one else had a key to his home. There was no reason for that small, innocent looking envelope to be there unless someone had broken in to his residence. He narrowed his eyes at it. What could someone hope to accomplish by leaving him a letter? Perhaps it was a threatening letter? Or contained a seal which might cause him harm?

For a moment he considered taking it to Tobirama. If it was a seal then that bastard was the best person to deal with it. If it was some other trap then Madara would rather the Senju take the hit than himself. He decided against it, though. He would also rather not be called a coward.

He was careful as he slid the flap up and peered inside, then he was surprised as he turned it over and emptied the contents in to his hand. It was only a photograph. The background was rather vague, just a blank wall with nothing identifying on it. The subject, on the other hand, was irritatingly familiar. It was that man Sukea. He was holding the camera a little ways away from himself to capture a picture of his own face, smiling mockingly and holding up his other hand in a victory sign, pressed up against the corner of his mouth right next to his beauty spot.

Madara scowled, incensed. How dare that lowly photographer _nobody_ break in to the home of the Head of the Uchiha clan! And to do nothing but flirt after Madara had made it perfectly clear that his advances were not welcome in the slightest! The envelope crumpled as he made a fist, glaring down at the photograph as he made his way in to the house. If he ever ran in to Sukea again he would not be held responsible for the violence that ensued.

The moment he stepped in to his kitchen he had to stop dead again, this time in utter bewilderment. There were items on his table that had also not been there when he left that morning and yet he couldn’t fathom the meaning behind these. There was a wig of tawny hair, a small dish of purple make-up, and a box of contacts. He had absolutely no use for any of these things, although the wig looked strangely familiar.

It was right there on the tip of his tongue, the thought of what these items might imply, but the thought slipped away from him when he heard a muffled noise from down the hall. Was Sukea still here? Could he truly be so bold? Still absently holding the photograph in one hand, he drew a kunai with the other and headed in that direction.

Stepping carefully to avoid making any noise, Madara ghosted down the hallway towards his bedroom. He scowled at the thought of having a stranger in such a private space. He felt almost violated by the very idea. The closer he got the clearer he could hear someone moving around – and the deeper he furrowed his brows in righteous anger. By the time he reached his door he was ready to explode with indignation.

He threw open his bedroom door with a violent crash.

Then he deflated.

It was only Kakashi. The silver haired man turned calmly to give him a small wave and turn his visible eye up in to a smile. Madara stood in the doorway, kunai in hand, and gaped. He’d looked all over the village for this idiot and here he was breaking in to Madara’s own home? Rooting through his bedroom?

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded in a flat tone. Kakashi made a happy little noise.

“I got bored waiting for you. Hope you don’t mind!”

“That doesn’t answer my question!” Madara re-sheathed his blade and crossed his arms. “I asked what the hell you think you’re doing! This is my _bedroom_! In my house! You broke in to my house, Kakashi!”

The other man nodded with a chuckle. “I needed to speak to you. Where better to have a private conversation than in a private location?” He gestured at the room around them and Madara pinched the bridge of his nose, praying for patience.

“You were supposed to meet us in the marketplace earlier,” he pointed out. “Could you not have spoken to me then?”

“Maa, but that’s not very private is it? Besides”–Kakashi waved a dismissive hand–“I didn’t know I needed to talk to you then.” Madara sighed, crossing his arms again and leaning back against the doorframe.

“What do you want, Kakashi?” he asked tiredly. He should have asked what the younger man was doing, what he had been messing with in here, but he was certain that he wouldn’t like the answer. Best to get everything else out of the way first and then he could get back to yelling at this maddening, wonderful man.

His guest did not answer at first, turning away from the bed and coming towards Madara with a strangely predatory gleam in his eye. He stopped when they were nearly toe to toe, merely a single foot of space separating their bodies. Madara fought back the urge to gulp nervously when Kakashi leaned in even farther, placing a hand on the wall next to his head.

“I want to take about us,” Kakashi said, his voice low and sultry.

“Us?”

“Yes. I want to talk about these feelings that you apparently have for me.” His mask shifted over a grin as Madara’s eyes blew wide.

“I-! Wha-? Who told you!?”

Kakashi chuckled darkly as he said, “No one.”

“It had to be someone,” Madara insisted. “Was it Hashirama? No, it had to be Tobirama. He found you didn’t he? I’m going to take his spleen out through his nose!”

“Hm, no. Sorry to curb your murderous tendencies but Tobirama said nothing to me.”

“Then who did?”

“Why, you did.”

Madara blinked and cocked his head. “What?”

He intended to say more, to make a full sentence and demand that his friend explain what he meant. That intention flew out the window along with the rest of the thoughts in his brain when Kakashi continued to lean forward until all Madara could see was one beautiful obsidian eye and that damnable blue mask. He immediately lost the fight, swallowing audibly while he tried frantically to remember how to breathe.

“It’s not nice to keep secrets Madara,” Kakashi purred. “But I suppose I can’t be too angry with you since I have a secret of my own. Lucky you, I won’t have to punish you this time.” Madara’s jaw fell down at the heat in those words.

“Punish…me?” The very thought of someone like him being ‘punished’ was – well, he didn’t want to say arousing but sweet sage he was already half hard just thinking about it. The sheer audacity of it was exciting all on its own even without all the images that flooded his brain of the reverse situation. Kakashi hummed.

“Not this time. Instead I thought I would gift you a little something. A secret for a secret. That seems fair, yes?” He appeared to be trying to devour Madara with his gaze alone and the Uchiha was certainly feeling the heat, his skin tingling with anticipation.

Madara could do no more than nod in agreement while his throat constricted and his heart pounded. Had Kakashi ever been this close to him? He didn’t think so. He fervently hoped that he was not misinterpreting the situation here because this was…incredibly promising.

He twitched when Kakashi took his hand, lifting it to tuck a single one of his fingers underneath the edge of his mask. His heart kicked up the tempo and he felt almost faint with the shock. There wasn’t a single person in the whole village who wouldn’t give their soul to know what was hiding underneath this flimsy piece of stretchy material and here it was being freely offered to him, of all people. He felt honored, touched, special – _triumphant_.

Kakashi said nothing when Madara’s eyes swirled to life, glowing red to focus on his face and inscribe this moment in to his memory forever. Madara pulled at the mask slowly, savoring the reveal of the single most intriguing mystery he’d ever encountered. The skin beneath was pale, a few shades lighter than the small section typically exposed to the sun, and smooth. His nose was thin and straight, his lips a perfect bow. He was free of any blemish or scar save for the one peeking out from beneath his headband and the small beauty mark next to his mouth.

Oddly, the beauty mark looked familiar. The thought snagged at him, pulling his head down from the clouds of appreciation for the beautiful face that had just been revealed to him. He had the feeling that he’d seen it somewhere before. Which, he thought, should be impossible as he had never seen Kakashi’s face before until this very moment.

“Not even a kiss?” Kakashi breathed, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout that made Madara want to nibble on it. “Uchiha-sama is such a tease.”

Even as the words sparked a memory and Madara stiffened, the smirk on Kakashi’s face grew. Madara raised the photograph he’d forgotten he was still holding in one hand, setting it right next to Kakashi’s face for a comparison.

It was the same smirk, the same beauty mark, the same face. The only different was the hair – a familiar wig sitting innocently on his table – the eyes – a set of gold contacts that hid the natural light of mischief – and the scar – easily hidden by thick purple makeup.

They were the same person. Kakashi was Sukea. Kakashi had dressed up as someone else and sat and had tea with them earlier. Kakashi had – _Kakashi had sat right next to him as Madara confessed his feelings_. He’d been taken for a fool and it galled, especially so because Tobirama had sat right there with them and not said a word. That bastard sensor would have known it was Kakashi the entire time. No wonder there had seemed to be something going on between the two of them!

The tomoe in his eyes spun faster as anger rose, burning through him with the same intensity as his sudden embarrassment.

“ _You_ -!”

He got only one word out before Kakashi gave a wild laugh and cut him off with a searing kiss, pressing him back against the wall. Madara grunted in surprise, his arms reaching up on instinct to fist in the other man’s collar and his chakra slipping out of control, causing his eyes to fade to black while his lids fluttered low. The kiss tasted metallic, like lightning captured behind teeth and the filtered ash of past fire jutsus. Madara drank it down like a fine wine, running his tongue along Kakashi’s lower lip and sinking inside to chase for more.

As the other pulled away to trace kisses across his jaw and down his neck, Madara snarled. “You little _shit_! It was you the whole time!”

“Maa, don’t be angry,” Kakashi murmured against his skin, sucking a bruise in to the junction of his shoulder. Madara shuddered, his hands gripping tighter even as his frown deepened.

“You set me up,” he growled.

“That was not my intention,” Kakashi said. “Although I’m not complaining about it. You’re very difficult to read sometimes”–he looked up and met Madara’s eye with a heated look–“Uchiha-sama.”

Madara grit his teeth. “Stop calling me that,” he warned, “unless you wish for it to go to my head. You know better than to play with fire, Kakashi.”

The way his companion said it gave him such _ideas_ , such delightfully dirty thoughts. It made him want Kakashi spread out and begging, tied to the bed and sobbing with want.  It made him want to spend hours discovering every inch of this elusive, gorgeous man and finding all the things that would make him scream.

Teeth dragged along his collarbone and threatened to turn his knees to water. Kakashi nibbled at the underside of his jaw before returning to his lips for a kiss that blanked his mind for a few moments. Kakashi coaxed his tongue out once again only to suck on it and draw a moan from him. He retaliated by running his hands down the younger man’s sides and cupping his bottom to pull him close. They both shivered as their burgeoning erection ground together, causing Kakashi to break their kiss and drop his head back.

“As you will – Uchiha-sama,” Kakashi breathed, eyes closed and tone dark.

Madara growled under his breath and shoved Kakashi away, following after him and leaning down to leave sharp bites against his throat. If the man was going to invite him to have his way so brazenly then Madara was certainly not going to hesitate to take him up on that offer.

Together, they stumbled over to the bed. Kakashi tumbled down on to the mattress and Madara fell on top of him, slipping between his legs to grind them together again.

“If you wanted me to be in _charge_ , Kakashi, then I am more than happy to oblige.” He pinned the younger man’s wrists to either side of his head. “Now I _am_ in charge and you will do as I say or it is I who will be punishing you. Do you understand?”

Kakashi grinned up at him and Madara narrowed his eyes, leaning away until the only point of contact between their bodies was what was necessary to keep his prey pinned.

“Do you understand?” he asked again, hissing the words. Kakashi pouted at the loss of contact.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Good.” Madara raised a single eyebrow. “Good boy.”

His companion huffed in amusement. “I’m not an animal,” he said.

“No but I’ll fuck you like one if it pleases me.”

He was delighted to see the other man’s smirk slide away and his gaze darken with anticipation. Madara shifted their position until he could hold both of Kakashi’s writs with one hand to leave the other free. Then he leaned down to leave a trail of open mouthed kisses down Kakashi’s neck while plucking at the hem of his shirt, fingers ghosting underneath to trace the contours of his abdomen.

Kakashi arched in to his caress, his eyes falling closed as Madara slowly mapped out his torso with fingertips and scratching nails. He caressed the dips and edges of his muscles, flicked at the hardening nubs of his nipples, and dragged blunt nails along the lines of his ribs. All the while he kept his ears trained for the sounds his partner let out, quiet sighs and sharp inhales, the little hitches in his breath.

When he could take it no longer, he pushed the hem of the shirt up to Kakashi’s neck and lowered his head to lave his tongue across a pearled pink nipple. He had all the time in the world to fulfill every fantasy he’d ever had about this man. He felt no need to rush despite the way Kakashi’s breathing had immediately sped up or the way he seemed to be trying to press himself up in to Madara’s mouth.

“Be good,” he murmured against pale skin, letting his teeth drag over his treat as an incentive. When his partner subsiding obediently he rewarded him by biting down as harshly as he dared, sinking his teeth in to that pretty nipple and tugging ever so gently.

“ _Oh!_ ”

Grinning, he easily held Kakashi down when he tried to arch up again. Then he shifted over to take the other nipple in to his mouth, teasing with gentle licks and soft suction. He waited until a pleading moan graced his ears before biting down, nipping repeatedly with varying pressures. Kakashi swore, squirming underneath him, and Madara lifted his head with a tutting sound.

“Ah-ah,” he scolded lightly. “You wouldn’t be trying to get away, now would you?” Kakashi’s good eye cracked open to look up at him, panting while he tried to answer.

“Away? Kami, no. More. I w-want more.” His head dropped back to the pillow and Madara preened, triumphant. He had barely even started and already the other man was on his way to incoherent. Having such power over Kakashi was going to his head and he very much liked how it felt.

“And who said you could make such demands?” he purred. “We’re doing what I want. Not what you want. Maybe if you behave very well I’ll give you what you want later. For now you’re going to do as I say.” He paused, unable to resist the dramatic effect, then said, “Strip.”

Kakashi whined as Madara let go of his wrists but he moved to follow orders fast enough to make it obvious how much he wanted this. The Uchiha sat back on his heels and simply watched as Kakashi divested himself of his clothing, his shirt and pants falling in to a heap beside the bed and his underwear flung across the room with unintentional enthusiasm. His headband sailed off to places unknown and then he was gloriously naked, spread out across Madara’s bed like a dream come true.

The younger man lay still as Madara’s eyes traced him from head to toe, shivering under the heat in that stare. He choked down a whine as Madara slid backwards, away from him, and the older man chuckled darkly.

“Hush, pet. I’m not going anywhere too far.” Madara slid to the end of the bed and settled against the footboard, just high enough to give him something to lean against as he slowly dragged his eyes over Kakashi’s form. Miles of pale skin on display just for him. His features were impossibly darker than usual as he made himself comfortable before ordering in a clipped voice, “Touch yourself.”

His partner whined again, louder and with an edge of desperation, but he did as he was told. One hand trailed downwards, whispering against the skin of his own torso before reaching for the hardness rising proudly from a nest of silvery curls. His thin fingers made a ring around the base and slowly stroked upwards, showcasing his trim length for Madara’s pleasure. Their eyes met briefly and Kakashi looked away first, closing his own and turning his head as a flush spread from his cheeks down to his chest. Madara’s grin spread wider.

“Good boy,” he murmured as Kakashi’s hips twitched with the restrained urge to buck in to his own fist. “That’s it. You’re doing well. You look so nice like this, my own private show.”

Kakashi whimpered, his head thrashing to the other side. His hand sped up for a moment and then subsided back to a slower rhythm at a sharp word from Madara. His toes curled and his thighs shivered but he kept the steady pace, the tight grip. When bidden, he flicked his thumb over the swollen, sensitive head each time his hand pulled upwards.

Madara relented only after Kakashi’s lips parted to gasp each time his fingers sank low enough to brush against his balls. He raised himself from his sitting position and crawled up the bed, dipping down to run his tongue over Kakashi’s testicles and earning a shaky moan for it. Then he turned his head and sank his teeth in to the milky thigh just next to his head, sucking the flesh until it purpled under his attention.

When he looked he saw that Kakashi’s hand had stopped its motions and it made him frown.

“I did not say you could stop, Kakashi,” he said in a dangerous voice. Kakashi’s eyes blinked open as if he had become lost in his head and forgotten all about reality for a moment. And that simply wouldn’t do. “Turn over.”

The younger man swallowed anxiously as he shuffled around on the bed, turning on to his front. Madara ran his palms up the back of long, muscles legs. When he reached the other’s hips he pulled, forcing them to rise until Kakashi had his face in the sheets and his ass in the air. He spent a few moments appreciating the sight, drawing it out to allow the other the anticipation of wondering just what he was going to do. His fingers stroked the shape of Kakashi’s hips, traced down to curve of his ass to tease the edges of his fluttering entrance, so pink and perfect. He watched it clench and smirked to see how eager the other was for him.

Then he lifted one hand and brought it back down with a resounding smacking sound directly in the center of one perfect, round ass cheek. Kakashi jolted, a sharp cry torn from his lips. Madara cracked his hand against the same spot a second time, then brushed the skin with a gentle palm.

“You disobeyed me, Kakashi, and I told you that if you disobeyed me you would be punished.”

“Oh my god…” Kakashi’s words were faint and they were further muffled by the way his face dug in to the mattress in an attempt to hide the increasing blush. Gratifyingly, however, he made no move to get away.

“You won’t disobey me again will you?” He punctuated his words with another slap, this time to the opposite cheek. Kakashi’s hips jerked and the bedding was not enough to hide the moan that slipped out of him.

“No,” he gasped. “I’ll be – I’ll be good!”

“I thought as much.”

With a sharp pinch to the reddened skin and an even sharper command to not move, Madara rose from the bed. He disrobed leisurely, knowing that Kakashi was peeking at him and generously allowing him a little show in return for the one he have given Madara before. Once naked, the Uchiha wandered slowly over to his bedside table, rummaging through the drawer until he found a half-empty jar of oil. Technically the oil was meant to be consumed or used for cooking but Madara – and countless others who shared his taste in bed partners – had long ago discovered other uses for it.

He brought it back to the bed with him, settling himself on his knees behind the lovely rump still perched up in the air, waiting just for him. While his fingers worked the lid off of his jar of oil, Madara bent down to run his tongue up the perineum so nicely presented to him, stopping his tongue just before Kakashi’s entrance and drinking in the sounds of the choked off noises coming from below.

“Hmm, another time, pet.”

As much as he would like to delve deeply and bring Kakashi to peak with nothing but a tongue pressing inside the pert little ass of his, it would have to wait. He had a different goal in mind right now. He’d been wanting Kakashi for far too long to deny himself the pleasure of sinking inside and fucking him in to the mattress.

To that end, he slicked up three fingers and set the oil aside where it wouldn’t spill. Then he used one hand to stroke Kakashi’s flank soothingly while the other circled his entrance in teasing circles. He enjoyed the way the hips in front of him twitched, obviously wanting to press back in to his touch yet not daring to for fear of making him stop for another ‘punishment’. It seemed as if Kakashi were determined to behave now and that deserved a reward, he thought.

The first finger slid in easily, straight to the second knuckle. Kakashi’s breath left him all at once with a whoosh and a muted keen. Madara gave him no time to catch that breath back, immediately starting up a rapid rhythm, drawing his finger in and out in a motion that accomplished little other than to drive the man beneath him mad with pleasure. Kakashi keened and moaned, whimpered in to the sheets, but he held perfectly still and did not beg.

Madara paused his rhythm to work in a second finger, reveling in the way Kakashi trembled for him. The passage eagerly swallowing his digits was warm and tight, slick with the oil he was carefully spreading inside. He couldn’t wait to replace those fingers with his cock, to spread Kakashi open and hear the younger man screaming his name. But – patience. Despite what many thought of him, Madara did know how to exercise patience. It showed in the careful spread of his fingers each time he withdrew them from the depths of the body quivering under his touch, further stretching his entrance ever so gently.

He waited until Kakashi had been good through having a third finger slide in before rewarding him for doing so. The younger was panting, groaning, obviously only just barely containing the urge to writhe and buck, but he did as he was told and continued to stay still. Madara murmured praise as he changed the angle of his thrusting fingers, curling them up just so.

Kakashi cried out as Madara found his prostate, barely brushing it once, twice, before impacting harshly. The young man’s legs spasmed, nearly collapsing under the intense sensation, and his hands fisted in the sheets so hard they tore in two different spots. Neither of them paid the bedding any attention, however. Kakashi was more focused on not passing out with pleasure and staving off the heat that coiled in his gut. Madara watched his reactions with pride, smug at having been the one to elicit them.

“You _are_ being a good boy Kakashi,” he praised. “Well done. I do believe I promised to give you what you want if you managed to behave, hm? Was there something you wanted, pet?”

At first, Kakashi seemed unable to answer. He swore and moaned, garbled strings of half-words pulled from him as Madara continued the rhythm of his fingers, thrusting, spreading, stretching, and grinding down on his prostate with each pass.

“ _Hah_! Please – please Madara – _fuck_! Oh god – I – I want you! Oh shit _yes_! Just f-fuck me already! Please!”

“As you wish, pet.”

A string of expletives followed his fingers as he removed them, giving one final stroke along the puffy inner walls now thoroughly slicked with oil. He took a moment to spread both of Kakashi’s cheeks with his thumbs, admiring the twitching entrance awaiting him – as well as the suffering moan of anticipation.

Kakashi obediently changed the angle of his hips when Madara guided him to. The older man raised himself up to stand on his knees, taking himself in hand to spread oil along his own skin. Then he pressed his cockhead against where he most wanted it to be, giving a few teasing nudges and letting his length thrust up the line of Kakashi’s ass without penetrating it, just to enjoy the feeling of power that came with knowing he could do whatever he wanted and Kakashi would simply kneel there and _beg_. Only then did he line himself up properly and press forward until his sensitive head had been swallowed by the most intense pressure he had ever experienced.

“Sweet sage you’re tight,” he said between clenched teeth. Kakashi whined, pushing back against him. Madara pinched his right ass cheek. “Down,” he growled.

“Fuck…Madara…please…”

Madara closed his eyes, thought the better of it, and opened them again. He wanted to watch.

Kakashi cried and shouted with every thrust as Madara began to slowly work his way inside, sinking deeper each time. The Uchiha’s eyes fell to half-mast as he greedily watched his own cock disappear in to Kakashi’s ass, his girth stretching it to the limit and yet still being pleaded for _more, more_.

He was all too happy to give more. Madara tightened his hold and thrust as hard as he dare. Kakashi howled underneath him, clawing at the sheets again as his entire body shook. Madara kept a good grip on him, keeping him in place. Muscles fluttered and flexed under his fingertips, soft skin drawn taut with restraint. Nearing his own breaking point, Madara finally let his head fall back and his hips give in to the frantic pace they both wanted.

“Ah, Kakashi!” he sighed. Kakashi’s hoarse voice moaning his name in reply only added to the symphony of slapping skin. His nose was filled with the scent of sex and the subtle musk of his partner. His skin tingled from head to toe as he drove in to molten heat over and over. He couldn’t remember a single time he had ever felt this good, couldn’t think of a single partner who had felt half as incredible around him.

“Madara, _please_!” Kakashi gasped, twitching with sheer need.

“Tell me,” Madara demanded. “Tell me what you want, pet.”

“I need – _oh god_ – I need to cum!” The tone of absolute desperation in his voice hit Madara just as hard as his words, making the older man growl.

Without slowing he leaned forward as far as he could and whispered, “You don’t get to come until I do.” The man beneath him let out a sobbing cry and Madara relented a tiny bit. “But you can move if you like – s _hit! Yes!_ Like that! Fuck, Kakashi!”

The moment he was given permission it was like setting a caged animal free. Kakashi’s body undulated and writhed, pushing back to meet his every thrust. Madara could barely believe the ways he was able to move, even with half his body still plastered to the bed. The sight of it was enough to drive him higher and fan the heat in the pit of his belly.

The crescendo of Kakashi’s rapturous babbling rose in pitch, his voice growing louder as it became harder to hold himself back. Madara snarled, his teeth bared and his muscles flexing to give more power to his thrusts, taking everything he could and giving back by aiming dead on for his partner’s prostate. The pressure in his belly grew tighter, tighter, until he thought he might go mad with it. He thought he might never come down from this high – didn’t want to.

It came upon him with barely enough warning. Madara made a choked off sound and ducked his head to sink his teeth into Kakashi’s skin, reaching one hand down and around to grasp the other’s weeping erection. Kakashi didn’t just tremble under the touch, he _quaked_.

“Come for me,” he rumbled.

Kakashi went still under him before the words had finished escaping his partner’s occupied mouth, his back frozen in an arch as his jaw dropped to deliver a resounding scream that sounded something like Madara’s name. Wetness spilled over Madara’s fist and it was that which finally pushed him over the edge as well. Being inside of Kakashi was amazing, like nothing he’d ever experienced, but even better was knowing that he’d made Kakashi feel good in turn.

His teeth clamped down harder as with one final thrust his orgasm rushed through him with all the force of a freight train. His vision went white and he could hear nothing but a distant buzzing. His entire sensory existence narrowed to the mind-numbing relief of emptying himself in to the tight passage clamping down on his cock, his hips twitching restlessly through the aftershocks.

When he came to he was bent over Kakashi’s back, forehead resting gently against pale skin and his own ink black hair swirling around him in tangled pools. He sat up with a little difficulty and shook the mass of locks away from his face so that he could check on his partner.

One hand traced up and down Kakashi’s spine soothingly, feeling the way he shivered, the expansion of his ribs as he heaved for breath.

“Fuuuuuck…”

Madara chuckled faintly, the frantic energy from before slowly draining away.

“Yes, I rather feel the same,” he said.

“I don’t wanna move. Ever.” Kakashi nuzzled in to the blankets and encircled his head with his arms, pressing his rump backwards in a wordless plea for Madara to agree to that plan.

“It will be hard to clean you if I am not allowed to move.”

“Maa, we’ll just be dirty then.”

“Hmph. Lazy.”

He was at just the right height to be able to see one dark eye crack open to look back at him and crinkle with humor. Madara huffed again, trying to hide the fond smile on his face.

When he gently pulled away from Kakashi they both gave a low groan as over-sensitized flesh dragged together one last time. He stopped for a few moments to admire the view of the gaping hole before him, the muscles clenching absently and his own cum dribbling out in a thick trail headed for where Kakashi’s balls hung heavy between his legs. He passed one thumb through the mess, dipping in to that reddened entrance very briefly and making Kakashi gasp one last time.

“Stay here a moment, pet,” he murmured. “I’ll bring something to clean you up.”

The kitchen was closer than the bathroom and despite his scolding words for the other man he was feeling fairly lazy himself, so it was with a damp tea towel in hand that he returned to the bedroom, crawling back in to the space he had been before and setting about cleansing his partner with careful strokes. Kakashi hummed under his ministrations, not helping but not hindering, simply allowing himself to be pampered as a small reward. He squirmed ever so slightly when the towel dipped inside, soaking up as much cum as it could before the sensations became too much.

When he was finished Madara tossed the towel in to the hamper in the corner of his room. He helped Kakashi stretch him body out at last and made sure he was comfortable before crawling over top of him and taking his mouth in a languid kiss, unhurried and exploratory, almost an apology for being so rough without warning. He was certain the younger man would have said something if he hadn’t enjoyed what Madara was doing but the Uchiha did feel a bit guilty that their first time was not the slow, gentle lovemaking he had usually pictured in his mind.

“Am I to be your pet, now?” Kakashi asked quietly, the syllables of his words whispering across Madara’s lips and making his frown lightly.

“Do you dislike such terms of endearment?”

He hadn’t meant for it to sound so demeaning, although now that he stopped to think about it, it could easily have been taken that way considering his behavior.

The sudden worry was instantly relieved, however, when Kakashi graced him with a smile. If he had looked handsome before then he was absolutely resplendent in the afterglow. His face seemed almost as if it were crafted to be attractive to Madara specifically, built with all of the things he enjoyed in his partners. The tilted shape of his eyes, the high brows, the small kissable mole near his mouth. The sharp cheekbones, the strong jaw, the wonderfully plump lips now spreading in a soft expression to reveal sharp incisors.

Madara returned the smile when Kakashi leaned up a bit to lay kisses along his jaw, heading toward his ear where he paused to whisper.

“You can call me anything you like, love.”

Ducking his head down to bury his face in his lover’s neck was apparently not enough to hide the raging blush that suddenly took over his face but Madara thought it was worth it. He hadn’t realized until Kakashi used such a term that he had been worried in the back of his mind: worried that this was only a one-time thing, worried that this did not mean the same thing to Kakashi that it did to him. Because this meant a _lot_ to him. Kakashi himself meant the whole world to him.

“I would like it best if I were allowed to call you mine,” he found the courage to say. A moment later he felt a sharp nose nuzzling in to the hair behind his ear.

“Of course, Madara,” Kakashi murmured to him. “I’ve already been yours for quite some time.”

Madara lowered his bodyweight until every inch of them was pressed together in a tight embrace, trying to say without words how happy he was, how touched.  He couldn’t remember a time in his life he had felt so happy. As Kakashi’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and held him tightly in return, Madara hid his widening smile.

“And I shall keep you always.”


End file.
